Wedding Crashers
by A.S. Cavendish
Summary: Sneaking into weddings in order to get laid had become the usual for roommates Hidan and Deidara. Easy food, easy girl. Until that very unusual night in Paris. SasoDei, various pairings


**Genre: Romance/Humor**

 **Characters: Hidan – [Deidara – Sasori], many others and various pairings.**

 **Author note: Hey, this is my first story in English (I'm French) so I hope it's readable and you'll like it! Please tell me what you thought of the story as well as the writing. I also uploaded a French translation.**

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According to Deidara, art was the best thing in life – and above all clay art, obviously. When he wasn't at work, he basically spent the greatest part of his time modelling clay in the small room he used as a workshop.

'Hey, blondie! Happy birthday!'

When he wasn't being disturbed by his annoying crazy hyper roommate Hidan, that was.

'It's mid-september, moron. You're four months late – or eight months early, un,' he replied without looking away from the clay bird he was working on.

'Whatever, Dei-Dei. Look at that!' Hidan replied excitedly, waving a card at his friend. Unimpressed, Deidara struggled to decypher the silver letters on the paper his roommate was brandishing.

'Mr and Mrs Hyuuga request the honour of your presence at the marriage of their daughter Hinata Hyuuga to Gaara Sabaku, Saturday blah blah blah – fuck, these are rich people, it's gonna take place in a townhouse in Paris, un! How did you get this?'

Hidan was so excited he looked like a maniac – as he did most of the time, actually.

'Remember my friend Kankurou? The groom is his little brother. A couple of remote cousins told them they couldn't make it after all and they already ordered the food, so he invited me–well, us.'

According to Hidan, the best thing in life – well, the next best thing to celebrating Jashin – was weddings. Not that he was a true romantic; he just was very fond of these gathering of young women overly excited by romance who would yearn for any kind of remotly handsome guy to spend the rest of the evening with – which was undoubtedly to Hidan's benefice.

When he had exposed his theory about weddings to Deidara, his roommate had been sceptical at first; then, they gatecrashed a wedding together, and Deidara had to admit it was pretty accurate: he had carnally known three women, ranging from a mere toilet handjob to a few hours in a hotel room with a ravishing creature – without hardly having to make a move. Since then, whenever Hidan felt like worming his way in a wedding, Deidara followed. However, this invitation looked like it would be the most sophisticated wedding they would ever attend.

'Paris is a long ride from here, un', the blonde objected nonetheless.

'Who cares, man! Just think about the fucking Louis Quatorze furniture and the horny posh ladies we're gonna shag!'

'Okay, un, let's head for Paris, then,' Deidara grinned.

'Yeah, man!' Hidan started hopping up and down.

'Be careful with my clay, moron!'

A week later, they were in the Hyuuga mansion, in one of these large living-rooms with mouldings everywhere, surrounded by people whose clothes must have cost at least three months of Deidara's wage.

However, much to Hidan's dismay, flirting was not as easy as in the previous weddings – the atmosphere was substantially different. Girls here were steady and dignified – not quite the kind he and Deidara were accustomed to.

Deidara didn't mind – he was far too busy admiring the architecture and savouring the French food of the buffet to worry about his libido.

At some point in the evening, Hidan tried to hit on a hot long-haired blonde who was listening to him with obvious dinsinterest. When Deidara understood his friend was getting nowhere and didn't know when to stop he joined them with a charming smile, which caused the blonde girl to exclaim:

'How do you manage this bright shade of blonde? Your hair's almost as pretty as mine!'

'I'll tell you if you accept to flirt with my friend, un,' Deidara grinned.

'Truth is, it's not that I don't want to: I'm engaged to the pineapple-haired idler you can see over there talking to the groom.'

She motionned towards a lazy-looking guy who seemed thoroughly bored by the whole party. Hidan rolled his eyes.

'Obviously – when they're hot they're taken', he mumbled before disappearing, leaving Deidara alone with the girl.

'Sorry, Hidan can be a little . . . Hidan, sometimes', he apologised.

'It's okay, I'm used to attracting lady-killers.'

'I bet you do', he replied, not really trying to charm her – he just wanted to chat. 'For my hair, I mix an egg yolk with olive oil and honey and use it on the lower half of my hair. I leave it aside for fifteen minutes in a hot damp towel and _voilà_ ,' he smiled pleasantly.

'Thank you! I'm Ino, by the way,' she introduced herself.

'Deidara, nice to meet you, un!'

They had a good time chatting until Ino asked him whether he was single – to which he replied he was, un! – and told him there were plenty of wealthy sexy single guys tonight who made her wish she was too. Feeling that she was not hitting on him, Deidara was puzzled at first, then was hit by the sudden realisation of an obvious misunterstanding.

'Wait – no, I'm not into guys, un!'

'Really? Sorry, I thought so – because of the hair tip, and it is so nice chatting with you I assumed you were,' she apologised – though she didn't look convinced. 'Well, there are many single girls too', she added with a smile.

Ino's fiancé joined them soon after that. Deidara seized the opportunity to ease through the crowd in quest for these delicious _canapés_ Ino told him about. When he eventually spotted them, he bumped into a small figure who would have fallen flat to their face if they hadn't clung to Deidara. The obstacle turned out to be a delicate-featured redhead – most probably a teenager.

'Watch your steps, brat!' the boy complained, quickly removing himself from Deidara.

'Mind your own steps, un', Deidara replied, quite unsettled by the prospect of a kid calling him a 'brat'. Said kid only stared at him before concluding: 'Whatever' and reaching for the _canapés_.

What a strange kid. Whatever, un.

Deidara started eating too. God, these were so good he had to struggled not to moan.

'Quite extatic, are we?' the teen commented, staring at him.

The blonde swallowed with delight before answering.

'I'm not used to sophisticated food, un.'

'Plebeian.'

'Spoiled little snod, un', Deidara stroke back.

The kid rolled his eyes before changing the subject.

'What are you doing here?'

Deidara stared at him stupidly.

'Eating French food.'

'I'm not talking about the _amuse-gueules_ , moron,' the teen snapped. 'What are you doing at the wedding? I don't recall you being related to anyone here – have you even been invited?'

'Actually, I have', Deidara replied, slightly offended. 'I'm a . . . friend of a friend of the groom's brother's.'

'Funny', the redhead smiled, and there was something adult and teasing about this smile that made Deidara shiver.

'What about you?' Deidara asked.

'I'm a friend from the groom's family as well. I've known them for years.'

'Oh.'

The blonde didn't know what to say, so he picked a puff pastry roll and tasted it while looking absentmindedly at the married couple. The redhead groom was very elegant and the bride looked astonishing in her designer's white wedding dress.

'They're cute, un.'

'They don't love each other. See the pink-haired girl who seems particularly embarrassed by her wearing a dress? It's Tayuya. She's Hinata's true love.'

'What?! You mean she's a lesbian or something?' Deidara exclaimed.

'Not so loud, brat. And I don't know if she generally likes girls or just fell in love with this one, but yeah.'

'Does his husband know?'

'Of course. And believe me, he doesn't mind. He's fucking her cousin, Neji – the stern long-haired guy over there. Hinata and Gaara only marry for economic and social reasons, you know.'

'Fuck, rich people are so weird, un.'

'Tell me about it. You're right, though; they look cute. I think they actually care for each other.'

'How do you know all this, by the way?'

'I'm the observant type', the redhead simply shrugged. He took a roll and bit it. 'I need to pee. See ya, Deidara.'

He started to take off.

'Hey, how come you know my name, un?'

'Told you', the teen replied, 'I'm the observant type.'

Alone and puzzled, Deidara sighed. He decided to try to socialise – which turned out to be very disappointing. Not only there was no hot single lady to charm, but he also had no interest in the socio-politico-economic topics that were generally discussed. He finally gave up as he spotted Hidan.

'This wedding is bullshit. How do you expect us to get laid? All women here are either married, ancient or engaged to some dumb billionair's son,' Deidara complained as he had joined his roommate.

'Actually, dear friend, you're wrong: I think Kankurou's sister's quite fond of me – she's been looking at me the way _I_ look at almost-naked strippers, and now I know how creepy it feels. I guess now is a good time to have a chat with her', he grinned before abandonning Deidara.

Passably bored, the blonde decided he needed more drink and he headed for the bar-counter. There he found the kid from before, sipping a cup of wine.

'You shouldn't drink at your age – how old are you again?'

'Thirty-five.'

'FUCK!' Deidara ejaculated. A few posh people holding champain glasses stopped their monotonous talk to shoot him offended glares but he didn't care. The guy looked like he was fucking _fifteen!_

The boy – man – merely blinked.

'How – how is that even possible?! Your height, your babyface, your skin – wait, you're totally shitting me.'

'Don't be so hurtful, hormone imbalance sucks. See for yourself.'

He took a thin wallet out of his pocket and showed Deidara his ID.

'Akasuna Sasori, born November 8th – 1971, for Christ's sake! – in Douz. 1971. I can't fucking believe it. Where the fuck is Douz, anyway, un?'

'Foul language, brat. Douz is in Tunisia. You know where Tunisia is, right?'

'Yeah, somewhere around Sahara, I guess, un. You're . . . Tunisian, then?'

'I was _born_ in Tunisia. My parents visited for their honeymoon and decided to settle there. Grandma followed.'

'Oh. Was it in – he searched the name on the ID – Douz that you met the Sabaku?' Deidara asked, remembering something about the groom being North African.

'No. When my parents died we moved to Tunis and I met Gaara's uncle in high-school.'

Deidara suddenly felt bad for prying so much – the fact that the guy didn't seem to care made him even more uncomfortable.

'I'm sorry your parents died,' he tried – he wasn't good at this.

'It's okay, I was five. Fancy a cigarette?' Sasori motionned to the balcony. Deidara nodded and grabbed a glass before following him.

'Yeah, sure,' Deidara replied, relieved by the change of subject. On their way to the terrace, he spotted Hidan talking charmingly to the groom's sister and a two-bunned brunette who both looked actually pleased by his presence.

Once they were on the terrace, Sasori offered him a cigarette and lit his own. It felt weird seeing him smoking – like when he saw his sister kiss one of his own classmates when she was fourteen. That being said, Sasori smoking was also a sexy kind of weird. It made him look older (or at least more than half his actual age) and – well, hot. Deidara was quite upset by this realisation, but he simply put it on the fact that Sasori looked like he barely reached puberty, and had such delicate features he could easily be mistaken for a girl if he had longer hair – this Ino girl was wrong, he comforted himself; he was by no means attracted to men.

'Are you okay, Deidara?' the redhead asked, exhaling the smoke in a very sensual fashion.

Okay. He might – very slightly – be physically drawn to pretty boys.

'Yeah, sure, un.'

'So' – Sasori let out an other breath of smoke – 'what do you do for a living, Deidara?'

'I'm a welder. In a steel mill.'

'Funny; you do not look like the average factory worker. How come?

'That was the first job interview I got', Deidara shrugged. 'I went to college to study Chemistry but when we were not in the labs that was total bullshit, so I got bored – I eventually kinda blew up the labs.'

Sasori frowned.

'Did you go to jail?'

'No, because it was concluded to be an accident, and no one was hurt – but I got expelled, un.'

'I bet you did,' the redhead laughed, leaning on the balcony.

'But I'm not just a factory worker, un', the blonde went on. 'I'm an artist', he claimed with pride.

'An artist, yeah?'

The short man's teasing tone did not please Deidara at all. Who did he think he was to mock him and his art, un?!

'Yeah, I make clay sculptures, un!'

'Really?'

This time, Sasori sounded like he was genuinly interested. Deidara smirked.

'Yeah, I make mostly animals; then I smash them to the ground.'

The redhead's smile immediately dropped – so almost did his cigarette.

'But – why? What is the point, then?'

Deidara gave him a superior look, his smirk growing wider.

'Art doesn't need a point. Besides, there's nothing more awesome than this moment when something beautiful suddenly collapses into chaos.'

Sasori smiled – the way you smile at a kid who just asked you something unexpected and stupid, yet impressively clever for such a young age.

'Whatever you say, Deidara.' The way Sasori lowered his voice when he said his name made the blonde shiver.

'What about you?' He asked before taking a sip from his drink, trying to drown his uneasiness.

'I'm an artist – an _actual_ one', he added cockily. Catching Deidara's sceptical glance, he went on. 'I'm a woodworker – I carve.'

'That's cool', the blonde commented, and it seemed like he meant it.

'Yeah, I enjoy it. Besides, I'm quite famous now.'

They casually talked about art for a while – they had fundamental disagreements regarding the essence of art but they did enjoy discussing. Deidara found out that Sasori's speciality and favourite thing in life was puppet-carving – like, his really best thing in life: he almost spent fifteen whole minutes talking about _puppets_. At some point of the conversation, they both went silent. Deidara exhaled smoke, then took another sip from his drink. Sasori was gazing into the distance. Suddenly, he said:

'I'm bi.'

Deidara choked on his drink, then uttered:

'O-okay, un.'

'Have you ever had a remotly physical experience with a guy?' the redhead asked, turning to the blonde and staring at him.

'Yeah, once, un. I wanked my roommate – we wanked each other, actually. Very clumsily, though. We were drunk.'

'I don't mind beginners,' Sasori smirked.

'What do you mean, un?'

The redhead stared at him intensly, making the youngest shiver before Sasori even began talking.

'Deidara, I want to have sex with you.'

To his own stupefaction, the blonde simply said: 'Okay.'

They got rid of their cigarette butt and went inside. Sasori led them upstairs, and it wasn't until they were both in a room, standing beside a large bed, that Deidara truly realised what was going to happen. He didn't mind that much, though – never say never, life was all about experiencing, and stuff. Alcohol was probably encouraging him, too. But oh, that redhead was hot.

Their lips met, and Deidara felt the urge to ravish Sasori's mouth like he had suddenly found an oasis after a long errand in the desert – he wasn't used to this. He was a passionate lover indeed, but _this_ was different.

Very quickly, and very confusedly, Deidara found himself on the bed, half undressed and much exposed. He rolled over the redhead who immediately seized his wrists with a strength the blonde didn't expect.

'You're not topping. I'm not letting an unexperienced brat like you topping me.'

'How come you would be the one to top?' Deidara protested. 'I'm the tallest and the manliest. Isn't it how gay guys sort this out?'

'I'm the oldest, if you're willing to go there. Besides, I already topped and bottomed so I wouldn't hurt you as much as you would hurt me – plus I'm sure you would come before I had the time to take off.'

'I'm not a premature eja–'

Suddenly, Sasori was again on top of him.

'Believe me, the first time I topped a man it took me less than forty seconds – although for my defense, I was sixteen and the guy had given me head just before.' As he saw the sceptical look in the blonde's eyes, he added: 'I promise that if I don't make you come I'll let you top me. Okay?'

Deidara was still not convinced – did he really trust this guy with his anal virginity?

Actually, he was too drunk to care.

'Yeah, whatever, un, let's have gay sex and–'

The blonde didn't have a chance to finish because the redhead's mouth was already ravishing his own. For a sec he thought that if Sasori was as good at fucking as he was at kissing, he might actually enjoy it – though he hoped Sasori would be gentler during the real stuff. Deidara heard a moan and realised retrospectively that it was his mouth it escaped from. Suddenly, Sasori's hands were everywhere, and the blonde didn't bother trying to stop himself from moaning, closing his eyes. It was weird being so passive. But all in all, it was very pleasant. However, his eyes snapped open when his legs were lifted; he felt something wet and cold in a very private and intimate part of his body – when had the guy reached for lubrificant?! – and he became tense as he felt a finger making his way into him. It was more uncomfortable than actually painful but this was a weird sensation. Sasori must have felt it because he tenderly bit his ear to distract him.

'I can swear that when I'm done with you you're gonna beg for more,' he whispered in Deidara's ear.

'Heh! I doubt that, un,' the blonde smirked. The redhead simply smirked back and added a finger before moving gently inside Deidara.

This was starting to get painful. However, the uncomfortable sensation was growing . . . well, less uncomfortable. When a third finger was added, Deidara moaned in pain, but the sensation was still melting into something more – almost – pleasant. Sasori's touch was careful and gentle, and soon the pain was nearly gone.

Sasori kissed him and removed his fingers.

'Doggystyle, brat,' he ordered.

'Who do you think you are, my danna? No way I'm doing doggystyle,' Deidara protested.

'As you wish, but I warn you it would be possibly less pain and more pleasure.'

The clay artist hesitated, but he eventually took his advice. He heard the sound of a condom ripped open and felt the redhead move behind him.

'Lower a bit, you're too high for me, brat.'

'You prebubescent midget,' Deidara complied with a mocking smile.

'Arrogant brat,' the other smirked before pressing himself against the blonde.

Deidara shivered: what he felt against his hole was definetly not Sasori's fingers. The redhead pushed in and Deidara got the painful and tangible proof that Sasori was nor prebubescent nor midget.

And to his greatest astonishment, a moment later – and he was repeatedly proved right over the night – he felt like he was only discovering the true meaning of orgasm.

When the two wedding crashers met again that night, it was nearly dawn and almost all the guests were gone. They left the hotel particulier and collapsed on a bench. After a while, Hidan broke the silence.

'I've been involved in a threesome with bondage-freak lesbians and I liked it.'

Deidara stared at him dispassionately.

'Hidan, I've been fucked in the ass by a thirty-five-year-old puppet-lover who looks like he's fifteen. Four times.'

His friend gave him an uncomfortable you're-either-kidding-me-or-completely-high look before concluding Deidara was dead serious.

'Did you actually co–'

'Every. Fucking. Time.'

Hidan was flabbergasted. Deidara turned his gaze away from his OMG-my-roomie-just-discovered-he-was-a-fucking-homo look and sighed.

'God, I'm so exhausted.'

The silver-haired guy sighed as well, kicking a pebble.

'Jashin, we're getting too old for wedding sex.'

 **Fin**

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 _ **So, I hope you had as much fun reading this story as I had writing it! I originally intented this to be a one-shot (which is why it is marked as 'complete') but I might add one or two other one-shots to this one. Thank you for reading!**_


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